An oldie from Ol’ Remus:
Ol’ Remus
With all the recent troubles we’re again being invited to an honest and open conversation about race, or said differently, the browbeatings will be resumed. Try this for honest and open: many of us, probably most of us, are tired of your whining, your so-called grievances, your violence and crime, your insults and threats, your witless blather and pornographic demeanor—all of it. You’re not quite 13% of the population yet everything has to be about you, all day, every day. With you, facts aren’t facts, everything’s a kozmik krisis, and abusive confrontations are your go-to.
Here’s the thing: some of us despise you, although fewer than you believe, but most of us plain don’t care about you or your doings. There was a time when we did care, but you betrayed our good will and played us for fools. We laugh about it now, but we actually believed you wanted equal opportunity and mutual respect and to live in harmony—all that stuff. Ain’t it a hoot? Imagine our embarrassment.
We talk among ourselves just like you do. It’s true, we have “frank and open discussions” when you’re not around. Why? Partly because it’s exhausting to tippy-toe around you. Partly because you think it’s your celestial right to tell us what we can say. And partly because you’re alarmingly aggressive or painfully dim-witted by turns. We never know which “you” will pop out of the box, or when. But mainly because you’ve revealed yourself as grasping opportunists without honor or principle. There’s your deal-breaker. There’s more.
During the recent riots you expected us to believe heisting snack food then torching the place was “standing up for justice”. When we didn’t buy it, you told us the looting and arson wasn’t done by the rioters after all, no, all the bad stuff was done by rioters from out of town. Apparently you think it makes a difference to us. And if we don’t fall for that one, you tell us you’re the real victims, you’re the ones “hit hardest” because the neighborhoods you looted and burned are, um, looted and burned.
We’ve never stood in your way but we don’t really care if you have good neighborhoods or not. The evidence says you don’t care either, unless we build and maintain them for you, what your enablers call “investments in urban communities.” They don’t mention the return on our past “investments”. Our former neighborhoods weren’t improved by your arrival. Your contempt for ordinary civility tells us no level of “investment” would make a difference. Listen up. It’s simple. Just like our neighborhoods are our responsibility, so are your neighborhoods your responsibility, not ours. Your clownish leaders will tell you otherwise but they’ve always been your responsibility and they always will be your responsibility. Accept it or don’t, you’re the ones who live in them. There’s more.
Your air conditioned, smart phone equipped, EBT-financed “poverty” doesn’t wash to begin with, yet you’d have us believe poverty causes crime. There’s no payday for assault and rape and random killing. Police say 20% of your criminal violence is related to dope-dealing, okay, business disputes of a sort, but it says the rest of it is largely pro bono. We also notice you have a working knowledge of jury nullification and take pride in not “snitching”, typical gang behavior.
We say “what you think, you do. What you do, you are.” We know what you think—we hear it every waking minute. We know what you do. How could we not know what you are? Just so it gets said, crime causes poverty. It drives away productive people, their businesses and the opportunities you said you wanted. More bad news: you’re free to accuse them of anything you wish but they’re not coming back.
Schools haven’t been educating our kids for a long time. They’re too busy conjuring up new ways to teach yours, in fact, we’re beginning to think yours are the only ones who matter. There’s always some new scheme claiming dazzling success which, in the end, amounts to handing out the answers with the tests, or taking the annoying hard stuff out of the coursework, or entering unearned grades by hand. Whatever they’re doing they’re doing it wrong. Your kids are telling us, in every way they know how, they have neither the interest nor the inclination for academics. Perhaps we should listen. If what they want is “out” it’s worth considering and probably worth encouraging.
You tell us the schools have “failed to meet their needs.” And what are their needs, pray tell? Higher standards and tougher tests? Stricter rules and a dress code? Or some alternate universe where credit is earned for putting teachers in the ER, or for a string of abortions before the tenth grade? If you’d tell us what their needs are we’d at least know what needs we’re failing to meet. Until then we’ll mark it down for what it is, another lame excuse. They’re supposed to be schools, not day care or orphanages or theme parks.
You pester us with the “civil rights movement” of fifty years ago as though it happened last week, with tedious 1960s footage and cloying voice-overs, in an endless loop, like Groundhog Day, decade after decade. It’s understandable, you haven’t met any real resistance since those days. Breaking news: none of it matters any more, it all devolved into just another swindle, an extortion racket, “pay up or we’ll make a stink—and the bad optics are on you”.
Schools now teach something called White Privilege, which claims no overt act is necessary for us to be racist, in fact, absence of such acts is said to be direct evidence. It’s the “original sin” concept in a different wrapper, meaning our putative racism is bone deep and can’t be discharged by good works. Even so, they say we must atone in perpetuity for being white. They suggest we devote our lives in selfless service to you. No. Sorry. Whatever white privilege there may be, it isn’t enough. In fact, being subjected to White Privilege prattle is worth a couple of privileges.
Speaking of privilege, 60% of your college grads—and 20% of all of you—are employed by government. The intent is to create an artificial middle class of course, hence the trivial positions with imaginative titles and weighty salaries. In the lower reaches it’s the quota hires, typically unqualified. It’s a great offer. You pretend you’re doing something useful and we pretend to believe you. The rest of your grads are largely diversity directors, window dressing, teachers of dubious “studies” and improbable “histories”, and similar warehousing schemes for the otherwise unemployable. It’s as good as it’s ever going to get, except for those on the skinny end of the bell curve—for whom we have genuine, i.e., earned respect. You’d be a fool to leave it on the table, for as long as it lasts.
So here’s the deal. If you want to know what we really think of you, the answer is we don’t, unless you’re making yourself unavoidable or we’re cleaning up your latest mess. We can safely rely on you to make astonishingly irresponsible choices and blame us for the consequences. And you’ll demand we make good on them for you. We won’t take a chance on your sincerity ever again. Take it somewhere else, you have no credibility left with us. You’re a net liability, predictable to the point of surety. So we attend to our own lives and our own problems. It’s as it should be. We recommend it. As for you, frankly my dear, we don’t give a damn.
I miss his rantings.
Remus lives not very far from my AO, as he has a way of life which is discreet in the WV Mtn hollow way, if Remus lord forbid passed, or they sent somebody to put the hit on him, we probably will never hear of what happened.
Some of these mountains and hollows are not of the modern world. Time stops on these ridges. It is timeless here. The outside world not unlike an alien environment located on a planet far away.
Maybe the guy had enough.
His beloved wife passing from this mortal coil, broke his heart and he too went to the great beyond because that kind of broken heart sometimes has only one remedy. Bless his soul whatever took place.
Miss you Ol’ Remus though we never well met.
I hope you found peace and serenity forever.
Appreciate you, for all your efforts. For being Ol Remus.
Amen and prayers up.
The doods a comfortable genius. Hope he’s OK.
concern yourselves not about any BOOMERS!
tfA-t is here to inform, enlighten, harden, and direct you in your future Fusan corrective endeavors
tfA-t LIVES!
honestly. who else is there?
From past info you’ve posted, I do believe you’re a Boomer yourself on the tail end of such. Correct me if I’m wrong. As you criticize a generation, you criticize your own self. And you should, certainly.
We all like you anyway, as you spew your personal god-ness. There’s more than a few here who hope that you will include yourself in your desired death stats. 300 million, with that number who’s gonna care that tFat his ownself got on that train? Hell, he was just following the torch he was carrying. No stumbles, tFat boarded the Oblivion train on his own volition.
why are ewe still alive?
go join your sky god
LOL
L O S E R
tFat is currently working on finding a blog host who is to his liking, so that he can produce his own views on his world without the need to wait on his comments here being accepted in any sort of time window.
tFat still does remember his spanking here a couple years back when he made a direct threat on this site, to the concept of the federal continuance of government. Seems like tFat made some direct threat to the continuance of government and it was called out by our bud Aesop, and then all was magically removed by our host within the span of minutes as he saw the threat to free speech involving criminal indictments to his ownself for being a host to tFat and his normal self, that self that most would not approach with a ten foot pole.
There’s an old saw about lying down with dogs and waking up with fleas. tFat’s comments do certainly fit that saw.
Do not forget: tFat has made some threats against the current crime mob. It will be up to neutral observers whether tFat is found to be in the protected class, or not.
you fucking weasel snitch bitch
you will get what’s coming to ewe
and no one of any worth will give 1 fuck
and your statist bullshit along with your “bud’ aslop the panic whore are but pimples on tfA-t’s ass
fuck you and your government worship scumbag snitch bitch
do you think i give ONE FUCK about the “continuance of government?
YOU ARE MY MORTAL ENEMY CUNTBOY
you would do very well to never cross my path
fucking punk
Kinda touchy ain’t ya boy.
Looks like Quietus hit a nerve boy. As a BOOMER I’ve been around long enough to know when someone gets that pissed there is a measure of truth to it boy. Have a great day boy.
tFat isn’t real. He’s someone’s online alter ego. Not sure who it is but their “regular” self probably posts here as well.
you fucking LOSER
go to work scumbag
you murkins are all lowlifes who slave for someone other than yourselves for your miserable penny pinching existence
tfA-t shits on you all
Here is for the good ol’ days – Heh…..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFacWGBJ_cs
I’d say that the mountains of West Virginia are the closest any of us could ever get to real John Galt territory. I hope all is well with this gentleman as I miss his true to the bone commentary and sharp wit. The above article reprint is shear genius.
Almost Heaven, West Virginia.
I can see y’all never been to Alaska.
Week before last about, Burn loot Murder & antifart was talking about coming out to the agrarian where we live close to the Earth and God, shoot our livestock, burn us out of home and barn.
At that time oh about 3 days into the first week of this latest standard terrorist extortion tactic of poor wittle us “See what you made us do”, I’m opening windows after one of the toad stranglers we get on this ridge when thunder storms hit us and stack up and compress trying to get over the elevation, with a display of awesome thunder and hellacious bolts of lightning, I hear, then see, a early 2000’s Ford diesel ambulance conversion van, drive about walking speed, then stop at our driveway. There’s windows down the side of the ambulance, and not exaggeration, I see nothing but very dark silhouettes of male human shapes and 7 sets of white eyes.
The vehicle sits there for a couple minutes at idle, then ever so slowly backs up out to the main road, sits there for another minute, then gently coasts down off the ridge.
This is the 2nd time visitors of this complexion have come by. The first was in 2010, another van, this one a federal vehicle with federal tags and reservation/entrance/parking stickers on the front bumper used at check points for controlled access.
This visit was 3 gentleman of a darker complexion, who as I patiently watch out the very same window, they egressed their vehicle and began reconnoitering my property, sides, back, looking in vehicles, one gentleman up against windows peering inside eyes shaded.
I armed, and waiting for the right moment, I came out the front door like a freight train, rifle slung across my back and my XD 45 presented, asked, are you guys out of your fucking minds? I really caught these rats by surprize, truly, a picture is worth a thousand words indeed, the expressions where priceless.
One jamoke says “Hey man, we are just selling meat!” I can see right in the van, its bare bones nothing but bare ribbed metal floor to roof inside, two front seats and a milk crate as a third seat with a cushion on it.
I’m not even wound up tight, i,m just astounded how clueless these scumbags are. They are the early form of pre Burn Loot Murder, Obits, obama’s civilian police force, aka Organizing for America, one of them is wearing a T with it across the breast. they are wearing red & black bandanas around the neck.
“Fuck you your selling meat”, I say. “Get back in that fucking van, get off this mountain, tell your pals don’t come back, or I’ll bury you all and only the trees will know where.
If you come back, bring tanks, bring every one you can find.
You will need them.”
Note: I live in WV, about as far from the real world can be found, east of the Mississippi. I’m originally a NH born & raised redneck farm kid.
Where we live the locals call it N$gg%rless County. An very accurate description.
Why would I be a target?
Because I ended up getting invited to be a real citizen journalist back in 2006. My first piece was about the lightbringer, his time with Bill Ayers at the Anneburg Foundation, how they used organized crime techniques, extortion, and leg breaking to obtain politikal control on Chicago, his association with Jogn Marshal Davis, who is one piece of commie=pedo work, who mentored the light bringer, made him the protogea air apparent usurper, just as his father, his genetic father, Malcolm X, believed the only way to overthrow America was via political means, not violent means, which Ol’ X was assassinated for by the then amerikan musloid brotherhood because X was not radical enough and his political strategy was going to take power from his more radical associates.
I wrote many posts as I seen it, I always contended it was my insights gained from evidence that was publicly available, by putting common sense to work and adding the breadcrumbs up leading to Occams Razor deductions.
Literally all the historical history and evidence I used in those days is simply gone. Vanished. Not even a memory hole trail. The revisionists have been busy. As we see them now, going after symbolic representation such as statuary and other memorials to America and Christian Western Civilization.
Why tell this?
Because a so called SJW, the latest breed of critters called Karens, Word Press Insects and Utube cockroaches who are revising history by the hour now, soon by the minute, then seconds, are simply dirty stinking commies without an AK47…yet.
They will get to that, soon.
See, “they can not stop the message”, so as no self destructive neo-bolsheviks would not, not do, you stop the person with the message. Thats what Goolags and box cars, re-education, diabolical attainders of writ, ovens, and deathcamps are for. Because even stopping the person with the message don’t stop the message, so they try to stop the potential of a person with no message but the capability of having the message in their brain, it don’t stop there either, its best just to liquidate everyone who could be an undesirable badthinker, and then others too, just for good luck, and once down this path they go, there are no limits on how far they will go if they are not stopped.
And that right there, is what really bakes their noodles, to stop people who refuse to be stopped, who refuse to stop with the message, that breally puts a cabosh on the whole dystopian fantasy, all sorts of shit that looks great on the ideological road map of totalitarianism, not so good in real life.
In fact, people who will not submit, with a rifle, they are not just willing to die for what matters most, they are more than willing to make the enemy die for the ideological farce they believe in.
There’s none like us.
God bless us please.
We win long as we don’t lose our nerve.
LOL ovens – That says it all!
You’re dead wrong. There’s shitloads (of delusional self-important christians) like you, riding around in your mental boxcars of self-righteous ignorance!
Here’s to the collapse!!
DEATH to all christians
they are the ones who worship the fucking JEW
Hey! Sow ears… you are not fit to fix the Mountain Man a sandwich, much less sling word salad assertions as above.
Here’s to the collapse, indeed. It is here, now, and here’s to your being unavailable for comment later.
Cheerleaders of death and destruction make lousy partners for just about any worthy constructive enterprise.
Live your hate and perish by same.
Oughtsix (.06) is your IQ!
I’m sure you’ll make great sandwiches for any man – and that’s not mayo on the bread either.
Hate is natural, good and necessary; which is why I’ll be available for more than just comment in the future.
Piss off!
Come say it to my face, cockholster.
“…which is why I’ll be available for more than just comment in the future.”
You clearly have no concept of karma, do you dickwad?
Y’know, put in trailer trash speak you might understand, “what goes around comes around?”
Hell, little projectionist pricks like you never show when the shit gets real anyway… too busy diving your dick in the dirt.
Go do anatomically impossible sexual perversions on your pathetic widdle self.
“I’ll bury you all and only the trees will know where.”
Love that one. Getting more reports of urban yutes reconning rural areas by vehicle.
Assisted by Google Earth and social media.
“Check this one out. Big house, big pool, big RV, boat on a trailer. What’s the address? Worth a look. Lots like that up there.” Check of social media and tax records shows it’s a dad, a mom, a couple of young daughters.
That’s the game plan, but it will only work a few times. Then, it will be engage at max optical range.
They won’t leave their blue hives much after that. But God help the Lefty caucasians left in “nice enclaves” in blue zones. For them, it will be the losing side of Rwanda 1984. Too bad, all the warning signs were there, they should have gotten out while the gettin’ was good.
Typo, Rwanda 1994.
With the remaining lefty Caucasoid playing Tutsi.
Matt… Rwanda wasn’t that nice in 1984 either. Don’t let them fool you on that. Lol
I can’t wait,
Rule 308…
A long way short of
The garden gate.
Peace for mine,
Disturb it not…
You’ll never hear
The warning shot.
Peace for you
Is yours to choose…
If war’s your path,
Your lives to lose.
Nice, is that yours?
Everything he posted is right on point and timeless.
Best wishes and much respect to him.
Alive and salty as ever!
I miss ‘ol Remus too…I hope we’ll hear from him sometime in whatever mode he has capacity for! Our storytellers are going to be important in what’s to come.
Hope he’s well, wherever he is. Maybe he just decided it was Phukit time.
“Maybe he just decided it was Phukit time.”
I know how that feels, and it’s why my long-form writing (essays and novels) has dropped to nearly zero. The time for warning and prepping is about over. It’s kickoff time, so it’s time to get your war face on and be ready for whatever is coming. If the warnings didn’t work for people years ago, it’s probably too late for them. Especially the white liberals who live in those “nice enclaves” in a blue-hive run by Marxists who want them dead. There are millions of McCloskey’s without the kind of protection that millions of dollars can sometimes buy, like private security details.
A good buddy of mine,now spinning up furiously, coined this proverb a couple of weeks ago:
If you have to explain the way things are to someone, they probably aren’t listening anyway.
Thank you for everything over the years.
https://eatonrapidsjoe.blogspot.com/2020/07/tuesday-fine-art.html
Love reading his writing. Hope he comes back soon. The worldneeds him right now!
“I heard from somebody who is closer to Remus, author of The Woodpile Report.
It was his impression that Remus pulled his head in, like an old snapping turtle and did not want to be pestered. That would count as good news.”
Take a breath, folks.
There’s a couple of commenters here who would gleefully decry The Woodpile Report as cuck/larper/loser material (fill in anything else that comes to mind from their past and current spewings) and are rejoicing that there’s been nothing published for some time. Good on them and their internet worlds.
Others of us here have treasured each Report, for some years.
Maybe we all could give the man a break in our expectations of him. A person doesn’t know grieving until he’s been there his self.
Then again, perhaps Remus just decided to go dark. Not a dumb decision there, at all, considering the times and the various mindsets who look at his work product.
The above OP is a nice snippet of the man’s thoughts as they apply to current events. Pass it on to those you value … even those you value just a little bit.
Remus lives on. He was the salt of the Earth. Remus represented the very essence of our liberty. The salt, the dirt, the grit. The nasty get your hands dirty hard work that is/are the dues for freedom. This is the price WE should/have to pay, and continue to pay through out all our lives. For LIBERTY and FREEDOM. Never forget FREEDOM………………is never free.
Vermillion
Drop the mic moment.
Might be something that needs to be printed out and dispersed.
Print and disseminate widely.
Email yer buds.
Send it to airheads and tools, fools and useless idiots, if for reasons none other than cerebral hemorrhages and other termination effects.
Splodey dopes!
Sadly, or maybe not, that was the cluebat I needed at this moment in time. While I am firmly in the hive, I’m planning my escape, and these wise words from ol Remus, reminded me why I want outta here. I’m done choking on the diversity. Smart words from a wise man. Best wishes to Remus.
Waste no more time re: GTFO!
Tempus most definitely Fugitting!
I got out in ’78……
I’ve corresponded with O.R. a few times-he usually responds within 24 hours. I wrote him earlier in the week and have had zero response so far.
Course, sometime right after his Wife passed he did mention that the site may go dark for awhile, to not be surprised if it did. Heck, the man may be sitting on the coast right now fishing and clearing his mind.
I also emailed him three weeks ago after one of my readers inquired about him and I have heard nothing.
Five years later and even more relevant than when it was penned.
Old’ Remus if you’re lurking around your wisdom is missed.
Went out to Howie Long state park and there was a massive police presence.
State, local, town, counted at least a dozen on the way back.
Saw some pull overs and one followed me for a while but driving is everything when it is road time.
There is a rifle range right next to the park and you could hear the long guns blasting.
It sounded like…victory.
Note to the comrades-come on out to the burbs and beyond and get some.
Maybe Remus went into his bunker or his restocking on vital supplies.
A remix of the Zappa classic about Remus have we seen ol’ Remus?
Remus put out consistently very strong work and if this is his Last Post, he will be greatly missed. God bless you with peace and rest, sir.
Ol Remus has long been at the top of my regular reading list, and his wisdom is a balm to any soul that loves Liberty. I hope and pray for his well being – in this world or the next.
CA, please repost this to GAB: it deserves wider dissemination.
Thanks for all you do.
wilco
God speed to that man! I read him weekly, always looking forward to the next. His incite has had a hand in shaping many men. May God bless him in his endeavors.
This is brilliant.
Except, Remus, isn’t in WV, he wants you all to know, he will tell you. His place, his business.
A man with exceptional vision, the gift to articulate his knowledge, to grant us all a look into his very real crystal ball.
We have ALL been fortunate to have this
Exceptional man share his wisdom, his strengths, with us, thru his woodpile report.
Dirt
After broaching the question of his status in an earlier post here it lends some hope that another blog reports that someone closer to him says he’s just pulled his head in like an old snappin’ turtle for awhile. If so, good for him & understandable. The further examples of art appreciation class can wait on his own time.
His piece from 2015 remains one of the most relevant & finest examples of 1st person expository writing, ever.
OR is right here..
Ersatz Naugahyde says:
July 8, 2020 at 13:58
Alive and salty as ever!
Ol’ Remus lives…if not in deed, then absolutely, in word. Prayers for his well being, wherever he may be.
Thank you CA, for posting this one.
‘Ol Remus…where are you ?
Remus touched so many of us in several ways.
He made us think about the finer things which
helped us appreciate the arts and engineering.
He compiled others thoughts, and views, upon
humanities condition…and direction.
Remus is a humble fellow, that which I can
attest to from correspondence. But we all
know he must have letters behind his name
which shines through from his comments and
his many interests. For what ever reason,
should Remus post, or not post again, He has
left this place much richer than how he
found it. We can all agree to this truth,
and that we’ve all come to think fondly of him.
There’s a little of ‘Ol Remus in each of us.
Mainly, because He inspired us in many ways.
We would honor our friend well, to allow the
Remus, which resides with in us all, to shine.
Until then, when we’ll all finally meet up
once again, one hazy spring eve, at the water
cooler of yesteryear known as the Wood Pile,
Let’s mentor others as ‘Ol Remus mentored us.
With kindness, knowledge, and inspiration.